Yours Truly
by flamantgothique-mort
Summary: AU. Heero is uprooted from his life in Japan and dragged halfway across the world the New Zealand, where he has to deal with a new culture and life, as well as his past.


**Yours Truly.**

Summary: AU Heero is uprooted from his life in Japan and dragged halfway across the world to New Zealand, where he has to deal with a new culture and life, as well as his past.

AN: this is just the beginning, like a prologue, explaining Heero's arrival to New Zealand, but not much about the story. It occurs at least about 2-3 years before the rest of the story, and he's 14 in this. I apologise if it makes practically no sense, this wasn't really _important_ to the story, I just thought it would be a good way to begin. This is my first attempt at fan fiction, and this story hasn't been beta'd. So, on another note, anyone who bothers to read this thing, feedback is appreciated, esp. any kind of constructive criticism.

Warnings: AU. Present time. Yes, this is one of those 'school fics', but hopefully not a clichéd one. I don't know what the rating will be,but it'lprobably staya T. Some of the place names that crop up will be in Maori, but I can include a 'pronunciation guide' at the end if you want.

Oh yes, Heero is a bit OOC in this chapter, but it wont be for the whole story. At most, the first couple of chapters.

Pairings: 1x2, maybe 3x4 if I can work it into the plot, and 5xM if I can get enough info on how to portray her.

**Prologue: Synchronize Thoughts**

Flight 8701 from Tokyo, Japan, to New Zealand, touched down at Auckland International Airport on the 5th of July at just after 5:30am. Being in the Southern Hemisphere, it was currently about the middle of winter, and you could feel it in the chilly air.

Aboard the aircraft, a Boeing 767, the air-conditioning was making sure the temperature in the plane remained controlled and warm. Most of the passengers were stuffy business associates who travelled regularly, and so were used to sleeping on night flights, and this 11 hour long one was no exception. Most of them were already awake and preparing for another day. One passenger, however, had had a hard time trying to sleep with the turbulence, and had only fallen asleep half and hour before.

The seatbelt light flickered off, and a stewardess smelling of cheap perfume, with her dark hair slicked back into a bun walked over to where the youngest person on the flight – a teenage boy – dozed next to the window, half falling out of his seat, held in only by the seatbelt, his chocolate brown bangs obscuring his eyes, and creating strange shadows on his face. She watched him for a moment, before leaning over and gently shaking his shoulder, rousing him from sleep.

"We've arrived" she said in a quiet friendly voice, which annoyed the tired teenager.

"Thanks" he mumbled and straightened himself, unclasping the seatbelt and grabbing his bag.

The stewardess turned and went to assist some of the older business people, while he got up slowly and stretched, trying to erase the stiffness from his limbs. While he was slightly nervous about being here, alone, in a new country, he couldn't wait to get off this plane he had been stuck in for nigh on 12 hours – far too long, in his opinion – and see what this place had to offer him. Although he was only half Japanese – explaining his blue eyes and more European features – he had lived there his whole life, and barely spoke a word of English. Here he was, in a country almost half way around the other side of the world – or near enough – he corrected himself, and unable to communicate properly with anyone, except the people on this plane. He wondered how many of them spoke English, and how well. Had they gone to another country one day and found themselves alone, in the middle of a crowd? He dragged his fingers through his hair briefly. Well, it wasn't like there was anything left for him back home, so he would have to make use of whatever opportunities presented themselves here.

He slung his bag carelessly over one shoulder and began to make his way down the aisle to the exit, trudging along behind a large, grumpy looking man, who watched him with a sneer. Heero ignored it and focused on leaving the aircraft, wondering what he was going to find.

Outside it was windy and cold, and he pulled his jacket closer around himself. It was early, and the sun was beginning to rise. He wanted to watch it, never having seen it clearly before, either from getting up too late, or the smoke and buildings in the city smothering any chance of him witnessing it properly, but the people behind him were in a hurry, and he couldn't very well stand on the runway to watch, few aeroplanes at this time or not. So he turned and followed the line of people making their way inside the terminal.

After collecting his suitcase, he followed everyone else over to the customs area and proceeded to wait in the queue. He was exhausted from the stress of the last few days and not getting much sleep on the flight, but he refused to show it. As he finally came to the front of the line and was motioned to one of the customs officers behind the desks, it was all he could do not to curl up on the floor and drift into oblivion.

The person behind the desk however, had other ideas. In a cheerful, friendly voice, he asked in English "How are you today?"

Heero couldn't answer him, not understanding what was being said. He just shrugged, and snorted to himself. He didn't know exactly what he'd said, but he could guess from the man's acting that it was just small talk. The man continued to chat away happily, checking off everything on his passport, and stamping it a few times, before motioning him to move on. Heero then dragged his suitcase along and joined another one of a few lines where everyone's luggage was checked. This also took at least 25 minutes. When he arrived at the front of the line, he put all of his things through the machine to be x-rayed, and collected it on the other side. He was also questioned by a boring looking man with dark hair and a large nose in a uniform.

"Are you carrying any items such as fresh fruit, vegetables or plants with you?" but again, he couldn't understand the question.

"Wakarimasen," he mumbled in response, did the man really expect him to know – and the man was replaced with another one, who repeated the same question, this time in Japanese.

"Iie" he replied.

The man nodded. "Good."

And he was through. Following the other passengers, he walked down a brightly lit corridor with blue carpet and off-white walls, which led out to a large area with many seats, desks for different airlines, and doors leading outside. The International Terminal. It was about quarter to seven now, and the airport was beginning to wake up now, with more people bustling about, and the sounds of more planes, both arriving and leaving, audible in the background.

He stood there, at a loss, almost slightly panicky. He didn't know who it was he was here to meet, only that it was an old acquaintance of his father's. Assuming that the old man was here at all. He looked around at the people waiting there, and there weren't many. A few business people, one family, and a scary looking, grizzled old man with one eye and a metal – arm, if it could be called that. He had long grey/white hair, and a moustache and beard. Definitely one to avoid, Heero decided. Most of the people on the plane were simply catching taxis and heading straight off to meetings or hotels, he assumed, so there wasn't much need for a welcoming crowd.

The family rushed forward to a man who had just walked past him, the children shouting and laughing, hanging off the mans arms as he leaned forward to kiss his – wife? – who was also looking too cheerful. Heero turned his head away disgustedly. People shouldn't do that sort of thing in public. But was that his upbringing talking, or his bitterness as he faced the fact that that could never be him, and his family, having such a happy, warm reunion.

He turned, and saw the strange old man in front of him.

"Are you Heero Yuy?" he asked in perfect Japanese.

"Yes. Who are you?" Heero replied cautiously, hoping this wasn't the person he was supposed to meet.

"I'm Dr. J. You'll be staying with me while you're here in New Zealand."

"How I know you're telling the truth?" he asked

"You mean, 'how do I know you're not some crazy man who's going to kidnap me'" J chuckled.

"Yes".

J replied simply, "You don't." He turned around and started to walk outside the terminal, saying over his shoulder, "so are you coming, or not?"

Heero shrugged, this man could speak his language and appeared to know who he was. Right then, that was good enough for him. He made sure his bag was on his shoulders properly, and, grabbing his suitcase, set off at a jog to catch up to the doctor.

He ran through the glass doors and stopped for a moment, to properly take in what was happening.

The sun was rising, and the sky was a lightening blue, with a few fluffy clouds scattered to the north. The air was cool and refreshing, and so far, this place had left a positive impression on him, annoying air-hostesses, customs officers and all. He wasn't naive, he was a foreigner here, he didn't know the native language, and he was ignorant of almost everything New Zealand. It would be difficult, but he could survive it.

With this in mind, he ran to catch up to Dr. J, who was now making his way through the car park to his vehicle, expecting him to keep up. Heero smiled grimly. That old man would be difficult, he could tell, and he didn't like the feeling he got from him. The sooner he could live here without help from the one-eyed man, the better.

**End Note: **well, thats the beginning. I'm working on the next bits right now. Also,the prologue name thingy is the title of a song by P Money, a NZ artist. Whoo! And the title of the story is a song by Blindspott, another NZ band. :D yeah! the first part of the story is finally up!


End file.
